Do The Voldy
by xXxFluffy-Pink-Socks
Summary: When Tonks makes a bet with Ginny and Hermione, it's all out war for each of them to get their man first. A Ginny diary fic. HarryGinny and RonHermione
1. Trusting Hermione

**Do The Voldy!**

Chapter One:

Trusting Hermione

**A/N:** So I thought I needed to do a light-hearted Ginny diary fic. I love reading them and I know I'll have a hell of a good time writing it. I think I need a good-humoured, sweet, romance fanfic to write to take my mind off the day that we all know is coming but that I am inside dreading. If Harry dies... OK. I'm going to stop that because I refuse to believe it will happen.

Enjoy the fic! )

Fluff

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**10:30am, My Bedroom, The Burrow**

Harry's arriving today. At 11.

Must try to contain my excitement and not look like a giggling school girl.

Scratch that- should not show excitement under any circumstances. In fact I should just remain flippant and off hand and pretend to be incredibly busy owling my friends and making important social arrangements whenever Harry tries to talk to me. Well, for the first few minutes or so at the very least.

Also strap Hermione to a chair and bundle her into the closet (that girl is getting far too smug for my liking). Write off her absence as 'women problems'.

I sometimes wish I'd never told Hermione about my slight crush on Harry. Don't get me wrong, she hasn't told a soul, but it doesn't take a genius to notice Hermione's extremely unsubtle winks, nudges, smirks and smug expressions across the dinner table every night. It's not like she goes on about it all the time either, however, whenever I do need to talk about it, she's always there to listen.

Hmm. Maybe I can trust Hermione.

Slightly.

She won't tell me who she has a crush on though.

Probably because she doesn't want me to tell Ron, who will tell Harry, and then the two of them will never let her live it down.

Maybe it's a Slytherin.

Lord, no, DON'T let it Malfoy! 

I don't fancy having to invite Malfoy round for Christmas dinner at the Burrow every year. Saying that I probably wouldn't have to as Ron and Harry would have already murdered him by that point. Then he would have been dug up and murdered again but this time by his dad. Oh and by his mates. And the rest of Slytherin house. You know what I think Malfoy has too many possible murderers to bother going near Hermione.

Anyway, back to Harry! So he's coming to the Burrow! Yay! AND he's spending all summer with us! 

I'm really excited (incase you haven't already guessed) because Harry doesn't usually join us Weasley folk until near the end of the holidays and we don't get that much time. These summer holidays will be the first where we've actually had him staying with us for the whole six weeks... well, excluding the four days that he's had to spend at the Dursleys.

I'm going to go now because I can't think of anything to say and the twins' room has been suspiciously quiet for too long.

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**10:15am, The Hallway, The Burrow**

OK. The reason for suspicious quietness from said brothers has been discovered.

They were waiting at the top of the flight of stairs.

For me.

With extendable ears.

Apparently I talk while I write.

No! That's not possible! I've written in my diary outside in the garden before! I'd have noticed! HA!

But then how did they know...

OH MY GOD! I'M GOING TO KILL HER!

HERMIONE YOU BETTER RUN FOR YOUR GOD DAMN LIFE!

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**10:17am, The Garden, The Burrow**

Found Hermione.

But, alas, didn't manage to kill her.

My dearest youngest older brother stopped me from doing so.

Apparently I'm not allowed to kill a member of 'the Golden Trio', even if said person did tell Gred and Forge about my used-to-be-but-no-longer-secret crush on a certain Harry Potter.

Damn Hermione.

Damn Ron too.

Damn Gred and Forge for knowing about my crush!

Damn Harry bloody Potter for making me have a crush on him!

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**10:20am,The Garden, The Burrow**

Whoops. It turns out that Hermione didn't tell the gruesome twosome about my crush.

They found out from Mum.

How the hell did she know?!

Is it really that obvious?

God, can't anyone keep a secret in this house without EVERY member of the family knowing about it?

George just walked past and said that the whole point of me having secrets is so that him and Fred can find them out and use them to tease, mock and generally make my life a living hell.

Thanks for that comment, George.

I have such loving brothers.

I should probably go and apologise to Hermione for bat-bogeying her...

Probably.

Or I could go and pig out in the kitchen and eat the last of the chocolate cake that Mum made to celebrate the start of the holidays.

Hmm... very, very hard choice.

OK.

Sorry Hermione but that chocolate cake was nice and if I don't have it, then someone else will. 

Hell I'm evil.

MWUA HA HA!!!

Note to self: Try not to make evil laughs when Harry arrives. 

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**Please R&R!**


	2. Evil Garden Chairs

**Do The Voldy!**

Chapter Two:

Evil Garden Chairs

**A/N:** Well I decided to write the second chapter in celebration of the fact that it is now (for me at least) officially the summer holidays.

Enjoy!

Fluff

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**10:59am, The Garden, The Burrow**

I lost track of time in the kitchen.

I know how that must seem considering we have a gigantic clock hanging on our kitchen wall but, I'm telling you, chocolate cake is just too delicious to not give it your full, undivided attention!

So I didn't find out the time until Hermione walked into the kitchen (Fred had managed to call off the Bat Bogeys) and told me that Harry would be arriving any time soon and that she didn't think that I deserved to know after what I had done to her bla de bla de blaaaa but that I was her friend and it was her duty... I didn't hear the rest because I was too busy running past Hermione, shrieking like a mad woman.

Don't look at me like that.

It's not my fault.

You'd be doing EXACTLY the same if you found out that your crush was arriving at your house in precisely 5 minutes and you hadn't so much as tried to make yourself look decent.

I knew that I didn't have enough time to actually get changed or anything, so all I could manage was a quick rake through my hair with a brush, before I hurried outside and threw myself into a garden chair.

I needed to look casual.

Calm and collected.

Care-free.

Cool.

The four C's! That was my plan!

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**11:15am, The Garden, The Burrow**

... Things didn't go as I had planned.

After I had attempted to throw myself into a garden chair, the thing collapsed around me and fell down the hill that our house sat on.

So there I was; screaming hysterically, while trapped in a moving garden chair. And what should happen at this rather embarassing, mega humiliating moment?

Harry appears at the bottom of the hill and I just have time to shout "RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!", before he is suddenly bowled over and sent rolling down the hill with me.

"GINNY!" Harry shouts out, as we continue rolling down the hill.

"YEAH?" I shout back.

"WHY ARE WE ROLLING DOWN A HILL AT 100MPH?"

I was saved answering, when the chair suddenly crashed to the bottom of the hill and Harry and myself were catapulted through the air.

Harry landed on his feet.

I flew straight into a bush and landed on my arse.

Glamarous, eh?

Not the first impression I had been hoping to give Harry.

He didn't seem too bothered, though. He was laughing all the way back up the hill. I was blushing like mad and feeling like a right idiot. The fact his arm was around my waist didn't exactly help either. However, I did need someone to help me up the hill, because I had landed on... my leg... and it might possibly be broken... cough

Harry just rolled his eyes and grinned when I had told him this and began to help me.

Oh my god.

What is wrong with me!

Snap out of it Ginny!

You're not a liar!

... Ok, maybe you are, but lying to potential husbands- NO! I mean, potential just friends, is very wrong indeed!

Right. Now I'm starting to sound like mum.

Can I ever win?

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**12:01pm, My Bedroom, The Burrow**

I just told Hermione what happened.

She hasn't said anything so far.

She's too busy rolling around on the floor, laughing.

Sometimes I do wonder why she's my best friend.

Hermione says it's because I haven't got a choice as she has to share my room and my toilet for six weeks a year.

My toilet? She has to share my toilet?

Wonderful comparison, Hermione.

The boys have gone to play Quidditch on the hill together. Fred, George, Ron and Harry.

I would have gone and played too but Hermione hates Quidditch and it wouldn't be fair to leave her on her own. Besides she's having far too great a time laughing at me.

I've been trying to persuade Hermione to let Luna cut her hair. By magic.

Luna's amazing with hair.

Hermione said she'd much rather have her hair cut the muggle way and that's only if she actually wanted to cut her hair and she doesn't.

I want to cut my hair but Mum won't let me. She says that my hair is beautiful the way it is and that I don't want to spoil it.

She almost had a heart attack when I said I wanted to dye it pink like Tonks.

Apparently Weasleys have had red hair since the dawn of civilisation.

I said that should mean it was time for a change.

Mum told me not to be so cheeky and that if I dared dye so much as a single strand of my hair pink then she would make sure that my room would be turned into a guest room and I'd have to sleep downstairs on the sofa.

It's a pretty effective threat.

Our sofa is crawling with fleas from Crookshanks.

Mum's tried everything but she hasn't been able to get rid of them.

They only doubled when Mum made the mistake of letting a homeless Mundungus crash out on our sofa for two days.

Oh oh.

Mum's shouting up the stairs that someone needs to dry the dishes.

Better sign off.

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**12:20pm, My Bedroom, The Burrow**

MWUA HA HA!

I am a genius!

Mum's just come into my room.

I'm hiding under the bed.

Hermione's been forced to go downstairs and do the dishes.

Hermione is glaring daggers at me right now but she follows Mum to the kitchen anyway.

That's one thing I love about Hermione- she may be many things and she may be ready to give me a lecture on responsibility when she's done drying the dishes but at least she's not a snitch.

OK.

Maybe I'm no longer an evil genius.

Mum's just yelled upstairs that if I don't get out from under my bed and down the stairs in less than 10 seconds then I'll be washing the dishes for the rest of the week.

Dammit.

I hate Mum.

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**Please R&R!**


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